What Happens After Lights Out
by NaomiJameston
Summary: Ron has a question, Hermione has a secret.


Title: What Happens After "Lights Out"

Summary: Ron has questions, and Hermione has a secret.

Couples: HG/SS, HP/RW/others, PP/LB

Disclaimer: Don't own them, wish I did. I would be willing to share with JKRowling, but she doesn't seem to want to part with them… darn.

What Happens After "Lights Out"

"Ron, I really don't think you want to know," Hermione Granger, the "brightest witch" at Hogwarts, said calmly to Ron Weasley, her not-so-bright friend, without even looking up from her book.

"But, 'Mione, I wanna know!" he cried back indignantly, flopping down next to her on the couch nearest the fire. He grabbed her hand, pulling the book away from her nose and carefully marking its place before setting it down. He then pinned her with a glare that was very reminiscent of his mother's. To anyone else, it might of worked, but Hermione was a woman in her own right and had developed a much more efficient glare.

"Why, Ron?" she asked, dreading the answer and curious all the same. Damn Gryffindor quality, that. They were all like cats.

Ron sighed, releasing her hand and running his fingers through his hair, uncombed and fluffy. "I just want to know what you see in him. What's so great about the greasy bastard that you're giving your body to him everyday?"

Hermione flung herself out of the couch, grabbing her book and saying in a harsh whisper, "What concern is it of yours?" Then she ran to her rooms.

Hearing the door slam a few flights of stairs above him, Ron turned to Harry, bemusement evident on every inch of his face, and concern as well.

"Harry? Was it something I said?" he asked. Harry sighed, almost as exasperated as Hermione had been, but slightly more capable of handling Ron. He was his boyfriend, after all.

He curled out of his chair, the one closest to the fire, and almost glided over to Ron. Clasping a hand around the back of Ron's neck, Harry placed a chaste kiss on Ron's lips, purposely ignoring the Creevey brothers' gasps of horror. He felt Ron's arms come up to grasp his hips and pull him in harder, but he stepped away, leaving nothing but air for Ron to harness. Harry smiled and shook his head softly.

"Come on," he said, reaching out a hand to pull Ron toward the dorms. As soon as they closed the door behind them, Harry hurled himself into Ron, knocking him flat on the ground. "I could tell you why she loves him," he licked Ron's earlobe, eliciting a groan from him, "but even Mione is allowed _some_ secrets, don't you think, Ron?" He bit into the flesh of Ron's neck, not enough to bleed but enough to bruise.

Ron gasped and rubbed his erection against Harry's waist, now straddling him. "Ah, Harry; stop… fucking… _distracting_ me," he muttered, but there was no real anger there, only pent up frustration and a desire that would be released soon enough.

"Never," Harry whispered, but before he could kiss Ron again, a discreet cough echoed in the chamber. Harry turned to see Dean and Seamus sitting on Ron's bed, naked, flushed, and wet.

"Uh, Harry?" Dean asked, smiling shyly. "Sorry to interrupt, but Seam and I were thinking that, if you, well… needed help distracting Ron for a few hours, we'd, uh…"

"Stupid blighter," Seamus muttered, "We'll help if you want, Harry."

Harry considered the impromptu plan, deemed it 'good', and went for it. Hauling Ron to his feet, he flitted across the room, launching into Seamus, tackling him much the same as he had Ron earlier. Ron followed at a more sedate pace, though no less aroused than Harry. He had barely come within reach of the bed than Dean latched an arm around his waist and threw Ron across his lap.

"Bad boy, Ron, for trying to pry into Hermione's private life. That is hers," his hand connected with Ron's backside, startling the redhead, "and" another slap "hers" another, and a pinch "_alone_." This time, Dean slipped his fingers into the fly of Ron's pants, undoing it expertly and flicking the button open. He muttered a charm, spelling away every article of clothing any of them were wearing, forcing groans from two of the other members. The third, Seamus, just shared a wink with Dean and went promptly back to attending Harry's prick. Dean chuckled, smacking his hand against the cleft of Ron's struggling rear.

For a long time, there were no words, just screams, whispers and moans. They came silently, they slept silently, they returned to their own beds silently, and they agreed, silently, to never, _ever_ ask questions about Hermione again. If it meant that they would be exhausted and dehydrated for several days afterward.

In the next tower, Hermione put away her scrying bowl. She was satisfied with her work; knew the boys wouldn't pry anymore. Lust spells, while bordering on Dark magic, were very helpful sometimes, and quite legal when used with discretion. Severus had taught her that. Speaking of the dark angel, she thought, I really must be getting ready for him.

She flicked her hand at her toiletries, commanding them to follow her into the bathroom that was hers alone. She knew that fifth years were still required to live in the dorms, but, well, there were perks to be screwing a teacher. Severus had pulled some strings for her, even adding a fireplace of her own in the room, quite helpful when she didn't want anyone to know where she was going. Of course, all of Gryffindor knew who she was fucking, but that didn't mean she didn't like given a show every now and then. But tonight was not that night. She would use the Floo tonight, and would dress in her 'special' outfit.

Any other person looking at it would deem her a lesbian for even considering wearing it, but to Hermione, it was _her_, pure and simple. Severus had picked it out for her, during one of their trysts to Knockturn Alley. No one knew about those, but, turns out, there is a _very_ good sex shop there, complete with Muggles for hire. She had teasingly told Severus what she would have done to them if she had one, and in return, Severus had purchased this outfit.

Leather was the one word to sum it up, but if one was forced to use another, sex Goddess came to mind. The first layer was zipper after zipper holding together small strips of leather than revealed more than they hid. There was a soft wool cloak that wrapped around it, but she hardly ever wore it, and when she did, she slashed it up so much that it left nothing to the imagination.

She pulled her costume on, slipped her hands inside the top to cup a perfect breast, and maneuver it into place. The one thing she didn't adore about her ensemble was the fact that the top didn't really have anything to hold the breasts in place. The strips of leather criss-crossed all over her ribs and shoulders, but there was no piece in front to hide her chest. What she had to do was fix her 'buppies' (so Ron called them) into the grooves on the underside of the straps. This made them very hard to keep from peeking out, but that was the point.

Severus had told her once that the outfit had been originally designed for the 'harems' that English wizards sometimes had, and they specialized in having complicated outfits that were horribly easy to slip off. However, most harem owners couldn't spend too much time in their harems, so the outfits were made very short, usually cutting off mid-thigh, and crotch-less. That had remained true throughout the centuries, even to Hermione's garb. She hadn't noticed it the first time she had worn it, but he had made certain that by the end of the night, she did.

Taking one last look at herself in the mirror, she slipped off her panties, swirling one finger into her clit, teasing carefully. Not enough to satisfy, but enough to build a craving. Severus liked her coming to him half aroused and sexually frustrated. She lived to serve him.

Grabbing a small handful of Floo powder, she tossed it into the embers of her dying fire. She spared a thought for the house elves, but dismissed them from her mind. Thinking about little slimy green things was not helping her growing arousal any. In fact, if she kept thinking about them, she was going to get to Severus and be dry as a bone. He would _not_ like that. Not at all.

She flicked a finger over her nub again, bringing her thoughts back to the task at hand. She slipped back from her warmth, wiping her hand on a towel hanging next to her fire and stepped into the flames, saying "Professor Severus Snape's classroom." She didn't have to say it, her fire always knew exactly where she wanted to go, but she kept herself in the habit anyway. It wouldn't do to step into a fire at the Weasley's and not end up where she needed to be.

A few floors down, Hermione brushed soot off her leather, frowning and rubbing briskly at a particularly nasty patch. It didn't come off, but after a time and fashion, it blended in with the black of her clothing. She really should convince Severus to _clean_ that damn thing every once in a while. Of course, thinking that she had any control over him would end their relationship and her reputation in a heartbeat.

"Hermione? Is that you?" his voice called from down the path to his offices. She knew, however, that he wasn't in them. He was using a spell to throw his voice from his bedroom. Her first year with him she had been scared shitless from it, but now it aroused her so hard she throbbed. Maybe she shouldn't have prepared before she came.

"Yes, I'm here. Is it all right to come back to you?" she said, trying very hard to keep a straight face. Severus insisted that they use 'proper' English, no slang, as few contractions as possible. He would probably let the 'I'm' she used earlier pass, but any further toeing of the line would get her punished, and not in a good way. She was a masochist, but even she could be squeamish.

"Proceed, then." The door to his office opened for her and a coat rack came to her and removed the cloak from her shoulders. She could have sworn to see it shake its head at the condition of her coverings, but she didn't care.

She made her way around the desk to the back wall, pushing the correct stones in the correct pattern and stepping back to allow it room to open. Unlike most brick doors, this one opened outward and if the intruder was unaware of that, the wall could and would grab them and proceed to crush them into the sides of the office. Severus swore that a few times he had seen the door close itself partially and speed up to crush the victim more completely against the wall. Hermione shuddered and made her way quickly through the door. She swore that it moved as she entered, and it made her hurry up more.

She stepped into a cozy room, with a fireplace and chairs, a chess set, a bookcase, and little else. Severus was curled in his reading chair, more a snake than a cat, his back to the fire and absorbing the heat. He looked up and marked his page, setting the book aside in an unconscious copy of her movements less than two hours ago. He raised an eyebrow at her outfit, but a sparkle came to his eyes as she shifted, baring a bit of her right nipple. A bold move, but she wouldn't get punished for it.

He reached out a hand for her, which she took gently, palm down, as though waiting for her suitor to kiss it. He did, but in a way that would make any born and bred Victorian squirm. He licked every inch of it, bit into the fleshy pad of her palm, startling a gasp from her. He flicked his tongue over the hurt, apologizing to the skin and setting the nerves underneath afire. Hermione finally pulled away gently, praying that Severus wouldn't get angry with her.

He didn't. In fact, he was too delirious to do much feeling until his groin could be taken care of. So, he reached up to Hermione, drawing her down to his eye level. He knew the strain had to be hard for her back, but he couldn't care less at the moment. He kissed her hard, forcing his tongue between her lips and sucking as though he would take the life from her. She bit back a moan and kiss him back just as fiercely, just as mock-angrily. Her dug her fingernails into his shoulders. He dug his in her neck.

They pulled away after too many moments and Hermione gulped in air gratefully. She had started seeing stars and black spots in her vision and had been dangerously close to fainting, but Severus hardly seemed winded. He was, however, sweating, a sure sign that he was just as frazzled as she was. But before she could speak, he stood, towering over her.

He clasped both hands behind her neck and Hermione tilted her head back for another kiss, but it never came. Severus lifted her up by her throat and threw down on the couch, landing bodily on her. He proceeded to tear her straps off, purposely missing the one clasp in the middle that held it in place. He wanted her to be somewhat clothed, making the fantasy 'rape' all the more real. She lay on her stomach, hands underneath her chest, holding her breasts up uncomfortably. But she didn't complain; she couldn't with that man above her, holding her down with his knee as his hands undid his pants.

She turned a little to see what he was doing and earned a hard slap across the rump for her efforts. She squeaked a bit, but moaned long and hard as Severus slid his full length into her from behind.

He sighed gustily, almost a moan, but not quite. He had never moaned for any woman, only one man, and Hermione was nowhere _near_ good enough yet to get one out of him. Some training and maybe she would be, but for now, he would take what he got.

She squirmed under him, awash in pleasure and crying from the intensity. Severus took that as a plea and pulled back almost all the way. Her hips tried to follow him up, keeping him in, but he slammed his hands into them, forcing them back down. He slammed into her again, angling just a tiny bit differently, and smacked right into her 'spot.'

Hermione screamed. Just his name, over and over again, once for every time he hit that point. He would never get enough of that sound, but he was going to come within the next few moments and so was she. Within a minute, the shouts had ceased to echo around the chamber and had been replaced with sighs and shifts as the occupants of the couch rearranged themselves.

A particularly evil thought crossed Severus' mind and he chuckled.

"What?" Hermione asked, sighing against his chest, now unclothed. Severus didn't say anything, just reached around to her back and flipped the clasp holding her outfit to her skin. It fell away, landing on the floor with a soft thump. Hermione smirked and wrapped a leg around his waist.

He pushed it away gently, not irritated in the slightest. Hermione cocked her head to the side, confused, but too afraid to ask any questions.

Severus chuckled again, pulling himself from her embrace and off the couch. He snapped his fingers and the coat rack appeared, carrying Hermione's cloak. It handed it to Severus, who threw it to Hermione. She rolled off the couch, reaching for her costume, but Severus kicked it out of her reach.

"What are you doing, Severus?" she asked, still crouched and squatting. Severus pulled her up, wrapping the cloak around her shoulders and clasping it. It held together, but her skin peeped out at every movement.

Severus leaned down and kissed her, whispering against her mouth, "I want you to wear that, and nothing but that, back to your rooms, and allow everyone to see that you are wearing nothing underneath. You have done well enough for me to allow you the cloak." He pulled away and swatted her gently on the cheek, leaving a very small mark, more a love tap than a slap.

Hermione laughed gently, a fountain of happiness, and leaned over Severus who had reseated himself in his chair. She allowed him a generous view of her breasts and flicked her tongue at his lips.

"When do you want me to come back?"

"Well," he considered, "I could always give you detention in class tomorrow…" He trailed off, distracted by the sudden leap of her pulse at the thought of being fucked the next night. He had never allowed them to do it more than once a night or more than one night in a row.

"Truly?" she asked in what she hoped was an unaffected voice. "That soon?"

Severus smiled. "I don't think you realize, Hermione, what I plan to do." He leaned up and captured her lips, biting them gently. She pulled away gasping. "I plan on fucking you in between your classes tomorrow and forcing you to walk with your peers smelling like me." He tweaked a nipple through her cloak.

"Ah, Gods," Hermione moaned, letting her knees collapse. Severus caught her, and sucked on the same nipple through the fabric. Before he lost control, however, he set her back on her feet and showed her to the door.

"Now then, Hermione," he said, smoothing her hair down. "You must let everyone, and I mean _everyone_, in the Gryffindor common room what it means to be fucked by Severus Snape. Understand?"

"Of course, sir." He let her out the door, closing it behind her and returning to his book.

Hermione made her way up the many stairs to the Tower, perfecting a walk that revealed her cleavage and her leg up to her thigh. Just enough to let everyone know that she had been with Snape. Just like he said.

She entered the common room, and added a little swing of the hips to her walk after noticing that the room was full of single men and the outed lesbians. She put on a show for them, showing quite a few of them her full Venus Mound and the curling hair covering it. She even allowed Parvati and Lavender and quick touch before escaping to her room, laughter threatening to choke her.

She flopped on the bed, flinging the robe from her and crawled under the covers. She would ache in the morning, but for now she felt wonderful and she wanted that feeling to last. She fell asleep…

"Hermione? Are you up yet?" Harry yelled through her door. She moaned and rolled over, presenting her back to the boys as they entered. "Come on, Hermione! It snowed last night and you promised to have a snowball fight with us!"

Harry tugged at her arm, the only body part visible out of the mass of covers. Hermione sat up, blinking slowly. It couldn't have snowed; it was still September, wasn't it?

"Mione? Somethin' wrong?" Ron asked, jumping on her bed and wrapping her in a gentle, friendly hug.

"Are- Aren't you angry with me?" she asked cautiously, still not quite awake.

Ron twitched his head to one side. "For what?"

Harry felt Hermione's forehead, but she was fine physically. "Hermione, what's wrong?"

She shuddered, suddenly realizing exactly what bugged her. "Nothing. I just got a chill all the sudden." She bounded out of bed. "Come on; we have snow to play with." The guys skipped out of her room, back to theirs to get dressed. Hermione looked down, and saw that her instincts were correct.

It had been a dream. A glorious, wonderful, unlikely dream that she would cherish for her whole life.

She was soon dressed and making her way down the steps to the yard with the boys. She let them go a little bit ahead of her, lost in her own thoughts. She didn't recollect them until she saw Lavender and Parvati. They looked at her and blushed deeply, but ran before she could ask them anything.

"Hey, Hermione! Wanna hear something weird?" Ron asked, running back to her. He leaned down to her ear and whispered," I had the weirdest dream that you had cast a lust spell on me and Harry and you were fucking with the greasy bastard we all know and love to hate. Strange, but it felt real." He bounded away from her again and scooped some snow. He threw it back at Hermione, who ducked and threw her own, laughing.

Yes, it was a strange dream, she thought, and I hope to dream it again. I wonder who came up with it. Not even _my_ brain could make it _that_ vivid.

A few stories up, Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape watched with amusement as Hermione clobbered the boys in their fight. They chuckled together and shut away a vial of silver liquid. It was simply labeled, 'Dreams' but it was truly a highly illegal potion that forced the drinker to play out the fantasies of the maker. Snape had targeted Hermione, and affected most of Gryffindor (that was a side effect- every person in the dream would share the experience) and Minerva had targeted Remus Lupin. Why was anyone's guess, but Severus speculated that she had been dying to see them fuck since they had been her students. She had the strangest fetishes sometimes. But Severus had to admit, as he looked down at the three Gryffindors now rolling the snow trying to get as much down every one else's back, so did he.


End file.
